Into the Specter

Chapter 8

(a/n) By the way, the first section of this chapter is a flashback but I didn't want to put it all in italics.

Your heart is following the beat of the bass. The music is pounding and the strobe lights are making the room spin. Shades of blue and purple are lighting up the stone walls.

A man bumps into you accidentally and you shove him back. You're trying to get across the crowded dance floor, looking for Dallas. The last time you saw him he was taking shots with London. That was over an hour ago. Maybe. You may or may not have been making out with a hot German guy. The club is built in an underground bunker and Malta procured an invite somehow for the six of you.

The music changes. Some other EDM remix with an even louder bass. You see Belgrade on the stage dancing in an unbuttoned shirt with a girl grinding on him. He has fun being the center of attention. No Dallas there.

You get to the bar. London is sitting there looking like she's plotting a murder. Tapping her on the shoulder, you lean in and yell, "You seen Dallas?"

She snaps out of her glare at the liquor bottles. Shaking her head, she finishes her drink and gets up from the stool. "He went to the bathroom a while ago. I'll help you look," she says.

You're not as drunk as you'd normally be. It's making the room feel hotter and more stuffy than usual. This is the day that O'Moore was supposed to check in but you haven't heard from him on the burner phone. A terrible feeling has been creeping up on you all night and you'd feel a lot better knowing where everyone is.

The two of you are walking along the back wall. You see Warsaw sitting in the lounge area nursing a drink in an armchair. Malta was making friends with the DJ, probably trying to get him to play a song, the last time you saw him. Probably still there.

Dallas is not appearing. Your next thought is to try one of the back rooms. You pull London along with you to a hallway shooting off of the main area. The music gets slightly muffled the farther you walk. It's still just as dark. The lights coming from the closed doors that line the hall are how you don't trip over your feet.

All the doors are locked. Jiggling the handles gets you a few 'fuck offs' from inside the rooms. Getting to the end, the hallway turns to the right but there's a door with an exit sign flickering red light in the darkness.

"Is something going on?" she asks. You look back at London.

"I hope not," you say as you turn the handle.

Something slamming into the opening door knocks it back a few inches towards you.

You hear a groan and your eyes widen. Nico.

You rush out. A man is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. He slams his fist into him again and Dallas's face is pushed towards you by the force. A black eye and a split cheek decorate his almost unconscious face.

You can feel London at your back as the door slams shut. The alley is not even six feet wide. Three men are taking up most of it, gathered around Dallas.

They don't look unsettled at getting caught in the act. The one still holding Dallas looks like he's about 6'5" at the minimum. The other two are taller. Not the time to lose your cool. Even if your heart is now threatening to beat right out of your chest.

"Move along ladies," the man holding Dallas says in a gravelly voice. You steel your face.

"Looks like you have a problem with our friend here, mind letting him go?" you say, trying not to take a glance at Dallas hanging from the man's fist. His head limp.

The knife strapped to your ankle is your only weapon. At least you're wearing jeans. A tiny crop top and heeled boots are not ideal but you'll make it work. You can only hope London has her gun hidden in the bomber jacket she's wearing.